[color=gray][center][h1][color=red]Nεкαятα[/color][/h1][/center][hr]
Nekarta had been too preoccupied observing the curious stone to really sense Cical making his move. As his hand wrapped around her wrist and the other jabbed at her side, it probably didnt quite evoke the reaction the man was gunning for. While not immune to having her sides jabbed at, years upon years of horrendous torture at the hands of the Fleshmasters slowly altering her body; the pain of a finger in her side was hardly anything to get her attention.

"Hnng... Mmm, you could've just asked it back." She cooed with a soft moan, releasing her grip on the stone; expecting the man to just grab it from her hands, only for the bungling idiot to drop it, further cementing in Nekarta's mind that the man truly was just an all brawn-no-brains meathead. On the upside, it meant the man was easy to predict.

Righting herself, she simply smiled; and would Cical actually look back at her, he'd probably notice she was flashing him a hidden throwing dagger in the palm of the hand he left free. A simple statement even he would no doubt understand: I could've stabbed you, but didn't. It would hopefully make the man think twice before trying such trick again. Slipping the dagger out of sight again, Nekarta focused her attention back onto Farrin.

While blind to the man's features, Nekarta could tell simply from his lifeforce that he was old. "I take it you've been at this task for a long time, haven't you, elder?" She asked. It was hard to imagine an old man, even if a veteran of war, would survive long against the creatures that had spawned from the Omega. Nekarta only had some experience with them, as her cult had a pretty strong interest in the occult creatures... Their blood had an arcane potency no other creature held and as such were highly sought after.[/color]